A Dangerous Buisness
by Neverastory
Summary: When myths turn out to have truth in them, two unexpected allies must work together to finally end an old story. A post-war dramione fic inspired by themes in Lord of the rings. "I am sorry: sorry you have come in for this burden: sorry about everything. Don't adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on the story."
1. Three is Company

"The Road goes ever on and on  
Down from the door where it began,  
Now far ahead the Road has gone,  
And I must follow if I can,  
Pursuing it with eager feet,  
Until it joins some larger way  
Where many paths and errands meet.  
And whither then? I cannot say"  
- J.R.R Tolkein

**16 July, 2003, 1 pm **  
**Small café, Diagon Alley**

"Herny dop eeding" Ron forced past his a huge bite of his burger.  
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, agitatedly folding her copy of the Daily Prophet and stabbing at her salad angrily, "I just think that something about odd" she spat out, glaring.  
"Hey, Hermione" said Harry, smiling his easy smile across the table at her, "Relax, they say its a fluke, some disease, or something. Don't worry about it"

Hermione sighed. Contrary to expectations, Harry had recovered quickly from the war. Within a year, he had married his teenage love, and had two lovely red-haired twins on the way. Similarly, Ron never seemed to understand why Hermione was still waking up in a cold sweat six months after the final battle, one of the many factors catalysing their return to friendship. She suppressed a shudder, wondering how she had managed to harbour romantic feelings for the red haired man across the table. As much as she loved him, it was painfully clear now, so many year later, that they were never going to be a good match. That she was still jumping at black cloaks, so many years later, while he led his anxiety free life, merely cemented the matter in her mind. She jumped back to the present with the sound of apparition outside, not able to stop her fingers twitching towards her wand, not missing the worried glance her friends cast at each other. As much as Hermione tried to hide it, she suspected that they knew that she still hadn't recovered from the stress of the war five years before. Still, she still had learned to trust her intuition, and she couldn't bring herself to let this go so easily.

"Isn't it strange though, every single basilisk, gone, overnight." she insisted.  
Having finally finished his gargantuan mouthful, Ron snorted. "Who cares? Good riddance, I say", he said, glancing at Harry to share a 'I don't get it' look.  
She sighed, "I know they're not the loveliest of creatures" she admitted, "but they can be useful, remember?"  
As soon as she glanced at Harry she knew she shouldn't have said it, a knowing look spreading across his features as he reached for her hand.  
"The war is over, Hermy" he said, forcing what she knew was supposed to be a reassuring smile, but she could see the worry behind his eyes.

Suddenly irrationally angry, Hermione stood up, throwing down her napkin. "I need to get back to work" she muttered by way of explanation, throwing an apologetic smile at the boys before turning towards the fireplace. Grasping a pinch of the glittery powder she announced "St Mungo's" to the flames, secretly hoping for an outbreak of dragon pox to keep her quarantined and busy for at least a couple of days.

**20 July, 2003, 3am **  
**On-call room, St Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies**

"Wake up, Ms. Granger, wake up!" exclaimed the magical pager attached to her belt. It had been Hermione's idea to introduce the pagers to the hospital, rather than having to have people sprinting up and down the stairs every time there was an emergency. That didn't mean that she didn't often fantasise about cursing hers into oblivion, especially when she was on call. Groaning, she rolled out of the sterilised bed, sending it a wistful glance as she headed towards the door. Glancing at her watch she realised she had only managed about half an hour of sleep.

"Where am I headed, Alexis?" Hermione addressed the menace sitting on her hip as she hurried down the stairs

"Sunday 3 am? Where else but the first floor?" quipped the purple box. Hermione sighed. The first floor was for "Artefact Accidents", and she had already been down there three times tonight; for the wizard equivalent of a mechanical bull which somehow had managed to gore three people, a disco ball that had spun so fast it caused the roof of the wizarding club to collapse around it and an embarrassed young couple that had somehow managed to insert rememberalls into various orifices. Hermione shuddered remembering the last.

"If it's another rememberall incident I am writing to the ministry again to complain about the lack of sexual education at Hogwarts" she grumbled to her pager, which vibrated consolingly against her hipbone. Thankfully, the sight that greeted her when she barged into the first floor ICU was not a blushing young man or woman, but Harry's familiar smiling face, surrounded by several aurors she recognised as his co-workers.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, surprised, "What happened?" she asked, quickly crossing the floor to stand in front of the bed he was sitting on. However, Harry merely giggled and pressed his finger to her nose, which caused an appreciative chorus of snickering from those around him. Amused, Hermione glanced at the nurse who was trying not to burst into laughter at the clearly befuddled celebrity in front of her.

"Somebody broke into the war museum" the nurse said by way of explanation, "When the aurors got there something was booby trapped, we think it's some kind of magical concussion." she grinned at Hermione.

"Well that's easily remedied," Hermione replied gladly, waving her wand to send all those afflicted into a deep sleep to allow their brains to recover, "Why would someone break into the war museum?" she questioned as she worked.

"Apparently they stole the sword of Gryffindor" replied the nurse, moving around the room and settling the slumbering witches and wizards into their beds. "You should see if you can get some more shut-eye, it's been a hell of a night, especially with those rememberalls" she shuddered.

Hermione smiled in return, and headed back up the stairs. However, the niggling worry that always sat in the back of her mind was taking advantage of her exhaustion to make itself vocal. First the basilisks, and now the sword of Gryffindor? It was as if somebody was deliberately eliminating all of the artefacts capable of destroying very dark objects, such as horcruxes. Sighing, Hermione settled into bed. She knew that Harry would tell her that she was being paranoid, and Ron would mock her for it, but she couldn't help but wrap her hand around her wand stuffed under her pillow before drifting off to sleep.

**25 July, 2003, 8:30 pm **  
**Hermione's home, outskirts of London**

Harry leaned back in his chair, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips, grinning at Hermione across the table.

"Honestly Hermy, sometimes I think your cooking is better than Mum's!" exclaimed Ron, taking a third serving of melting bombe alaska from the plate in the centre of the table. Hermione rolled her eyes across the table at Ginny.

"Don't let her hear you say that, Ronald, or she won't be cooking your favourite treacle tart for a long time" Ginny teased her brother. Ron paused in his demolition of the dessert and paled visibly, causing everyone to break into laughter at the look on his face.

"We won't tell her, mate, don't worry" Harry reassured him, as the girls struggled to get their laughter under control, when he was cut off by a high pitched wailing sound.

Hermione froze in her spot, hand immediately to her wand. Ron didn't even look up, and the Potter's exchanged exasperated glances across the table at each other. With a tap of her wand Hermione ceased the wailing, and made to leave the table when she noticed the disappointed look from her best friend across the table.

"I thought that you said you would stop using the caterwauling charm" Ginny reminded her slowly, looking to her husband for support.

"Hermione, don't worry about it. It was probably just a cat, sit back down and finish your dessert" he suggested sternly. Hermione smiled apologetically at him before slipping outside to see what tripped her wards. With a quick non-verbal spell she lit her wand and held it high, shadows dancing across her bare backyard. Casting a couple of revealing spells, she found nothing, which was odd. The new caterwauling charm was set off only to alert her if something with malicious intent towards her crossed the boundary - a cat wouldn't have set it off. Like any animals ever came near to her house, with Crookshanks around. Where was Crookshanks anyway? Glancing around the garden Hermione noticed his collar sitting in the middle of the lawn. She made to walk towards it but a shiver ran down her spine, and she suddenly very much wanted to be back under shelter.

She re-cast the caterwauling charm, hurrying back to the back door when she heard voices inside. She paused before she entered, knowing she shouldn't but having a sinking feeling that she already knew what they were discussing.

"It's ridiculous Harry! The war has been over for years Harry. There hasn't been a single racist crime for almost eighteen month. You're far too accepting of these 'habits' she has." Ginny was angrily saying "It's not healthy!" she concluded dramatically.

Hermione heard Harry sighing like he hadn't since when Ron left them during the war, "She just needs some time Ginny. I'll talk to her about it before next week, see if we can get her to relax at the party a bit, okay?" he said, sounding defeated. "I still think you're overreacting a bit."

There was a pause, and Hermione was sure her eavesdropping had been noticed, until "Don't look at me, mate" Ron added, sounding defensive. "I'm with Gin all the way on this one, and we better shut up about it, she'll be back soon." When had Ronald become so perceptive, wondered Hermione. But the idea vanished when she heard him conclude "and pass me her dessert. If she doesn't want it then I do."

Hermione smiled as she returned to her friends, enjoying the normalcy of their relationships. Still, while she hated she was causing them to worry, she couldn't quell the uneasy feeling in the bottom of her stomach. Where had Crooks got to? She shook her head, trying to get the thought out of her head. Distracting her mind, she thought about Ginny. It was strange how worked up she was getting about her actions - she knew that previously she had found them quite comforting, compared to Harry's recklessness. She would need to have a chat to her about them when she got the chance.

Sitting back down, Hermione snatched back the bowl of ice-cream and meringue from her friend.

"Mine" she growled, grinning at him, and digging into her favourite dessert, "or I'll tell Molly what you said about her cooking."


	2. A Longexpected party

_Ugh sorry sorry sorry this took me so long! I've had assessments all week but next week is holidays so hopefully I'll be able to get some more writing in then! :) This chapter is much shorter than I intended but I figured maybe it was better to have shorter chapters more regularly than longer chapters every blue moon?_

_And yes, if I was in charge of this universe or these characters Dramione would be canon, hence they are not mine. Sadly._

**July 31st, 8pm**  
**Harry Potter's House, centre of wizarding London**__

Hermione took one last glance at herself in the mirror before stepping into the floo. She had tried her best to put aside her worries for this evening, she knew how seriously Harry (and the wizarding press) took his birthday party. Not only was it the social event of the year, it was also a celebration of all Harry and his allies had achieved during the war. Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and into a room full of mirrors, full of wizards and witches making adjustments to their outfits after their trip through the fireplace before facing the red carpet between here and the party. With a quick disillusionment charm Hermione slipped past the security guard collecting wands before the guests stepped onto the red carpet. To surrender one's wand when being a guest was an old wizarding tradition that had a revival after the war, as a show of trust to each other. Hermione knew that tonight was one of the most important occasions at which it was used, with guests ranging from muggleborn to pureblood, and humans to house elves, and most years she suffered through the anxiety. However, with her growing sense of unease over the last couple of weeks, Hermione could not bring herself to depart with her wand tonight.

Hermione was distracted from her thoughts by the flashing of lights as she passed through the door onto the carpet between the floo and apparition point and Harry's house. She looked up, amazed as always at how well Ginny had decorated the place. The modest three bedroom house glittered from every brick, bioluminescent nymphs fluttering between the flower boxes of roses displayed on each window. She smiled at the sight, impatient to see what inside would look like, but she was distracted by something tugging at her skirt. Glancing down she noticed Harold, Harry's house elf, smiling up at her, looking handsome (for a house elf) in a blue velvet suit.

"Hello Harold" Hermione addressed the elf, crouching down so as to be able to look him in the eye "You are looking very smart."

"I am going to escort Winky down the carpet" he announced proudly. Hermione could not help but smile.

"Well Winky is a very lucky house elf" she replied. However, Harold's eyes became even wider than usual as he glanced around her.

"Who is escorting Miss Granger?!" he all but squealed. Hermione sighed. She hated this part of wizarding tradition, where all the women had to be escorted into the ball by a man. While it did help make sure that everyone had a dancing parter, it irritated her because it suggested that she was not capable of defending herself. Hermione Granger! She sighed, looking around. She usually organised to have her father meet up with her, but this year he was away, and the issue had slipped to the back of her mind over the last couple of weeks. Hermione glanced around, hoping to see Neville or somebody emerging from behind her, but instead she was met by a pair of steely grey eyes.

Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy dynasty, wizarding diplomat and Witch Weekly's number one most eligible bachelor paused beside Hermione, offering her a hand. Politely, Hermione took it and stood, though pointedly dropping it as soon as she was vertical.

"Mr. Malfoy" she addressed him with unfailing politeness, "I thought that you were still in Russia." Even in her six inch heels Hermione had to tilt her chin back to look him in the eyes.

"That's Mr. Malfoy" he replied, nodding at his father, who was leading a Narcissa down the carpet in front of the cameras. Hermione noted Lucius Malfoy looked strangely on edge, before turning back to Malfoy as he said "I returned only this morning, and as a result did not have a chance to organise a date to this..." he paused, sneering up at the glittering facade "occasion."

Hermione glared up at him until she realised what he was suggesting, before laughing outright. "I am not going to help you out because of your disorganisation, Malfoy" she told him firmly.

"Because you are the shining example of organisation" he replied cooly, "were you planning on having that escort you" he said, glancing down at a terrified Harold. He noticed the flash in Hermione's eyes, and stated in an amused drawl "Come now Granger, there are cameras around here, and you know that walking with me will provide them with less fuel than duelling with me."

Hermione sighed, knowing his logic was infallible. Regardless, she was about to reply with a witty comment when she saw her boss catch her eyes from behind the prat's back. She stifled a groan, remembering that the Malfoy Family Trust was one of the biggest donors to the new wing she was working on at St. Mungo's. Glaring at him to make sure he realised that she was going along with this very much against her will, she slipped her arm into his and began to walk down the pathway.

"Git" she forced through smiling teeth

Hermione escaped onto the balcony outside, still chucking at the look on Ginny's face when Harry asked Draco to dance. Harry had got even more drunk than he usually did upon his birthday and had mistaken the slytheren for an exotic french blonde. Hermione had quickly escaped before she could witness the explosion of either Draco or Ginny, though the latter had fled from the room soon after Hermione. She sighed, leaning on the balcony and watching the dancing couples in the garden below. Her knees nearly collapsed when she realised that Draco was skilfully turning Harry in his arms, choking on her drink. She doubled over with laugher when she realised that the red head next to them was slowly waltzing with no other than Lucius Malfoy.

When her laughter had died down Hermione made her way to the kitchens. Someone had clearly put some befuddling draft in the punch, and amusing as the proceedings were so far, she thought it prudent to prevent any more oddities in case the press managed to catch a glimpse. However, as soon as Hermione entered the kitchen, she realised that something was not right. There was a gaping hole in one of the walls, and she hurried over to glance inside, only to be greeted by the sight of a large, black, wardrobe. She paused, why did the Potter's have a wardrobe hidden in the wall of their kitchen.

"Revelio" she muttered at the cabinet, realising that it was a vanishing cabinet. Her heart stopped when she realised the implications of this, but before she could move a muscle she heard a scream echo down from the courtyard. She raced up the steps and towards the courtyard, cursing her floor length skirt, and slicing it off with a severing charm before she burst into the garden.

People were screaming and running towards her, trying to escape into the house. Flashes of light were flashing from the security guards towards a cloaked figure. As she drew her wand she noticed that she had not been the only one to sneak one past the guards. Draco Malfoy was crouching behind a hedge, shooting bursts of orange at the figure who appeared. The figure then raised it's wand towards Hermione.

Hermione's brain only ever really shut off with the rush of adrenaline that hit when her life was in danger. She acted purely on instinct, kicking off her impractical shoes and rolling behind the hedge towards Draco, shooting ropes out of her wand towards the figure, who transfigured them into snakes before she even hit the ground. Hermione glanced around, noticing the last security wizard collapsing in a flash of red. She glanced angrily at Malfoy.

"You're not meant to have your wand in here!" she exclaimed automatically, brain whirring, trying to figure out a way to incapacitate the clearly skilled dark figure. Malfoy's eyes widened, and he couldn't stop his mouth from gaping in a very un-pureblood like manner when he realised she was chastising him in the middle of a battle.

"I know what to do" he muttered, glaring at her. "I am going to vanish the hedge, as soon as it is gone cast a stunner at him."

Hermione looked at him aghast, surely he did not expect her to trust him with such a stupid plan as that? But before she could open her mouth the hedge was gone and the adrenaline forced her hand again - "STUPIFY" she yelled automatically, just as Malfoy shot a beam of silver at her. Looking up she managed to glimpse the determined look in his eyes before she blacked out.


	3. The Black Gate is Closed

**August 1st, 1 am**  
**Harry Potter's backyard**

_Hermione's stunning spell, instead of being a simple streak of red, was a whole wall of red thundering across the entire property. She collapsed as soon as it had left her wand, and Draco Malfoy was already streaking across the yard towards the immobilised man in black, leaving Hermione to crumple onto the ground behind him. However, when he reached where the man had by lying, all that was left was an empty black robe. Growling in frustration he prodded it with his wand, pulling the hood back. He noticed something glinting between the folds, and he reached out to it and was thrown back by a wave of energy. Fighting unconsciousness he forced his eyes open to see his parents leaning over him, Narcissa leaning over him worriedly, and Lucius curiously glancing at his fingertips._

**August 3rd, 10 am**  
**St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, Room 301**

"This is ridiculous, I will not sit by why that is allowed to regain consciousness while my son is still forced to slumber!" snapped Lucius Malfoy at the terrified healer.

"Bu-bu-but h-he-" stammered the healer before he was cut off by the sound of the head of the hospital's swishing white robes as he glided into the room.

Gregory White, the head healer at St Mungo's was an impressive sight. He carried the regal grace that all purebloods seemed to have, but somehow his dedication to equality and care-giving added to his commanding presence, rather than took away from it.

"That happens to be one of my very best healers, Mr. Malfoy", Gregory, calmly told the fuming man. Narcissa, sensing her husband's rage rising, stepped forward and smiled charmingly at the healer.

"My husband is just agitated, Gregory" she soothed, "our son has been unconscious for days now, isn't there anything we could do?"

"I suppose we could wake him, though let it be stated that we are doing so against our advice"

Lucius muttered under his breath, before saying more audibly

"Go on then. Wake up the girl so we can get on with it"

Gregory stepped over to the bed of Miss Hermione Granger and sighed. He strongly suspected that this was going to go badly.

"Mr. and Mrs Malfoy, if you could leave the room for several moments, your son will require medical attention upon awakening. I will get someone to fetch you when he is ready to be spoken to.

Narcissa dragger her husband from the room before he could say something nasty to Mr. White and ruin all their chances of speaking to their son today.

"Thank you so much Mr. White" she shot over her shoulder as she exited.

Opening her eyes required as much effort as lifting up her school bag around exam time used to! Hermione let her eyelids drift downwards as she amused herself of the memory of her trying to fit all those books into her bag without magic.

"Hermione?" asked a soothing voice. She recognised that voice, but why would her boss be waking her up? Why was she asleep anyway, the light shining through the window meant it must be mid-morning at least. She must have slept in after Harry's party, though she didn't remember having enough to drink to warrant the pounding headache she had.

Suddenly she remembered, and sat bolt upright, whacking her head into that of her boss who had been leaning over her in a concerned manner. Sparks danced in front of her eyes, but she forced herself to stay alert.

"My name is Hermione Granger and the minister for magic is Percy Weasley unless there has been some assassination since I passed out" she snapped at the nurse standing next to her bed who was clearly preparing to ask her to usual 'does the person who just woke up remember who they are questions'.

"Now go away and let Mr. White explain to me what happened!'

The nurse turned and left the room, not at all shocked at Hermione's behaviour, having worked with her regularly. In fact, if she had not been outraged at being kept out of the loop then she would have been far more concerned.

"What happened? Draco Malfoy hexed me! Who was that figure? Is everyone else okay? How long have I been out?" demanded Hermione, her voice becoming progressively higher with each question until she was squeaking in a manner that Gregory would have found amusing if it weren't for the determinedly terrified expression accompanying it. He sighed, knowing his star healer would not thank him for sugar coating anything, so he bluntly stated the facts.

"Draco Malfoy hit you with a magic enhancing charm which allowed your stunning spell to successfully knock out the target. However, it did exhaust your magical reserves and so we had to leave you unconscious for several days to allow them to recovery properly. Then he took it upon himself to attempt to secure the attacker, though he was unsuccessful. It appeared that the attacker was not a wizard, but some sort of clothed apparition which disintegrated violently upon capture. This injured Mr. Malfoy, and with his pivotal role in the healing of those injured at the scene he also managed to drain his magic reserves, which is why he is also here."

Hermione paused, processing the new information. An enhancing charm. Well that made sense, she can't believe that she didn't think of it herself! Still, he should have made his plan more clear, and she was still angry at him, despite the fact it sounded like he was instrumental in the care of those injured. She glared at the flash of silver she could see on the bed across from her, before the impact of that finally hit her. Injured.

"Casualties?" she asked, wincing at how casually that word came out of her mouth, flashes of the war flicking across the back of her eyelids. Her heart stopped at the look on Gregory's face.  
"This was clearly an assassination attempt," he told her slowly, "but luckily, due to the efforts of..." he trailed off, glancing at the slumbering figure across the other side of the room, "they were unsuccessful." he finished.

Hermione knew better than to feel relieved.

"But?"

"But several people were hit with a spell which we don't know. While we managed to slow it's process, they remain unresponsive, although stable. Most notably Harry Potter and Ronald Weasly.


	4. The wrong dosage

****_Yes this chapter is a little short! But I have already written the next one and it will be up tomorrow :) this is really just a bit of a filler, sorry :/_

**August 3rd, 3pm**  
**The Library, Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Hermione rubbed her aching head, trying to make her eyes focus on the dancing paragraphs before her. If she had been her own patient there would be no way she would have been allowed out of St Mungo's today. However, not even Gregory White had the guts to refuse Hermione Granger in a bad mood, depleted magic reserves or not. Upon her release she had headed straight for the most extensive magical library in the UK, that of her old school's. McGonagle, to her credit, had attempted to refuse Hermione entry. However, upon hearing the news of the status of the other two-thirds of the golden trio, her stony expression had softened somewhat, and she had permitted Hermione to use the library.

Hermione could not find any references anywhere to a clothed attacker who vanished upon being captured. However, she could swear that she remembered reading about it somewhere! She sighed, shutting the huge tome in front of her and wincing at the thud it made. She really needed to get more information about the creature. She had already owled the Department of Law Enforcement, only to receive the customary "we appreciate your concern the Ministry will keep the Wizarding public informed of all future developments of this case," in reply.

While dragging herself out of the oh-so-comfortable chair, Hermione reached the inevitable conclusion that she was going to have to ask him. That is, if she could spend more than five minutes in his presence without hexing him for not warning her about the magic enhancing charm. The nerve. How dare he do something like that without asking for permission. Anyway, there were plenty of other ways of taking down that attacker without hexing her! By hexing Malfoy, for example. Just one example of many, but one which should have been taken into consideration. And now look where he had got them. Harry and Ro- no. She could not think about them lying comatose in the hospital. She could not. She would not return to the pitiful state she had been when the war ended when her friends needed her help. Once they were safe and healed, then she could break down as she pleased.

Hermione had been wandering the corridors, making her way back to the head's office so she could floo home. However, she had somehow managed to get completely lost. She leant against the wall, spots dancing in front of her face.

"Harold?" she called, her voice wavering. Luckily Harry's house elf popped into existence in front of her.

"Oh, Miss Granger, Harold has been looking for you everywhere! Mistress was so worried that you were somewhere researching" he exclaimed, wringing his hands.

"That's okay" Hermione reassured, too tired to wonder why Ginny would be worried about that "will you take me home?"

With a pop Harold apparated to Hermione's bedroom.

"Miss Granger must have a sleeping potion, said Misstress. Misstress said just give Miss Granger one of Harold's sleeping potions" the elf chattered as he tucked an unprotesting Hermione into bed.

"But Harold, won't that be the wrong dose?" she questioned, before the elf held a vial up to her lips and she slipped into oblivion.


End file.
